Remembrance
by TechnoScribe
Summary: A Remembrance Day Story
1. Chapter 1

_Beep beep beep beep beep_

The alarm clock went off at midnight. But Rodney wasn't in bed anyway. He was double checking his back pack to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything. Midnight officially marked the new day. As of twelve-hundred hours he was on vacation.

Vacation meant that his time was his own. The city exploration schedules were not his problem now. Being on call for whatever scientist might blow something up, even on Sundays, what not his duty today. For the next twenty four hours he would work on whatever he wanted.

Having checked and double checked his bag, Rodney went to where his laptop still sat open to his e-mail and clicked send. His schedule for the day went to Carson and his team. For safeties sake someone needed to know where he'd be at all times. He was nothing if not safe.

The lap-top was unplugged and slid into his pack. He was out the door within a minute of the clock striking twelve.

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By mid-morning, most of the Atlantis expedition was gathered in the secondary Jumper Bay. Candle-light that didn't quite reach the walls of the large room, flickered against the sides of the few jumpers that hadn't been moved to the primary bay. The candles rested on crates that had been piled up to make small tables draped with white sheets. Each table held a photo of a soldier that had died serving on the Atlantis expedition, and a poppy made of red and green paper.

A table honouring the soldiers who had died in duty this year held a central position. Griffin's photo was among them.

Today was Remembrance Day. It was a day that every military officer held dear and took very seriously. There were no off-world missions today, and even the labs had been closed so that it would not be necessary to have a military officer guarding them.

Most of the scientists had come into the bay at one point or another to show their respect to the people who risks their lives defending them. But one man was conspicuously absent, Dr. Rodney McKay.

Lorne supposed that he probably should be surprised. McKay never showed up to these things. He'd spend every holiday working, even Christmas, if his team didn't drag him away for group celebrations. Remembrance Day was treated no differently by the arrogant work-a-holic.

But this year was different. This year Griffin was among the dead, and every military officer on the base shared the feeling that McKay owed him. Lorne had half a mind to track down the scientist himself. In fact, he decided he'd do just that.

Summoning his determination Lorne turned and came to face to face with Col. Sheppard and Dr. Weir.

"Going somewhere in a hurry, Major?" Sheppard asked quietly so as not to disturb the solemn mood.

"Sir." Lorne acknowledge with a nod to both Sheppard and Weir. "I was just going to go find Dr. McKay."

An odd look crossed Sheppard's face at that, "Was there something you needed him for?"

"No. But don't you think he should be here sir?" Lorne leaned towards them so as not to be overheard, "I think you should know that it's not just me. Everyone has been talking about what Griffin did for McKay, and that he should be here."

"Everyone?" Sheppard repeated. He still had that odd look.

Elizabeth cast a considering look over the room. Lorne had done an excellent job of organizing the day. As the man responsible for city security, he had been quick to volunteer. It made sense, since he'd be responsible for organizing shifts for the few guards that would need to remain on duty. She was definitely picking up some bad feelings from the crowd though, "I think Lorne might be right. Rodney might not like gatherings, but as leader of the Science Department we might need him to set an example this time. Major, how would it seem to you if we had Dr. McKay come in and do this year's recitation of In Flanders Fields? Colonel Sheppard?"

"What?" Sheppard looked up from whatever day-dream he'd been in and quickly replayed the conversation he hadn't been paying attention to. "I don't really think that he'll like that idea. When I saw him he seemed pretty busy. Besides, I know him. Not being here doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate what Griffin did for him and what all of us," he motioned to the other officers, "do for him. He just…does things his own way."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Sheppard. There was obviously something he was trying very hard not to say. "That may be, John. Maybe he'll be more receptive if he hears it from you."

"That's not really what I meant," Sheppard grimaced and still looked as though there was something he wasn't saying.

Elizabeth looked at him with a raised brow, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Sheppard looked away like a misbehaving school-boy, she sighed. He obviously didn't want to tell her what he wasn't saying so, "You have three hours, Colonel, by the end of which I want to hear Dr. McKay's voice coming from that podium. Am I understood?"

Sheppard followed her gaze to the podium that had been set up behind the shrine to this years dead. A microphone leading to a small speaker system rested on the make-shift stage. And Sheppard had an idea. He turned back to Weir, "Yes Ma'am."

Three hours later, Ronon and Teyla strolled up to the podium, switched on the microphone, and held it up to a radio.

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It took the better part of the three hours for Sheppard to reach the part of the city that McKay was in. There was no way they would get back to the main city by Elizabeth's deadline. But Sheppard wasn't intending to. John had no intention of forcing his friend away from what he was doing. He would have told Elizabeth and Lorne and the whole damn room as much. Except that such an action would have demanded that he tell them why. And McKay had made him, Teyla, Ronon, and even Carson promise not to. _'Just don't tell anyone where I am, ok? I don't want to be disturbed by every hack with a serial box science degree asking me for help, and anyway they'd only think I was trying to one-up them.' _Sheppard hadn't seen the harm in promising that much at the time. Still, a promise was a promise.

That left Sheppard with a problem. Friends don't let friends be looked down on by the whole base when they know their friend isn't doing anything wrong.

Not that he's really talked to any of them about much. He'd said he was doing it for 'them', and left it at that. John was pretty sure he knew what Rodney meant, and that was good enough for him. Of course, McKay didn't want any help. So every year he came down here to this spot and worked alone for twenty-four hours. On what, he had no idea. Sheppard had always kept a respectful distance until now.

But now the rest of Atlantis seemed to be demanding answers, and McKay needed to be the one to give them. Sheppard thought it was a good plan. This way Weir and everyone else got their answers, and Sheppard had kept his promise.

"Rodney?" John called out. He didn't want to sneak up on the man and startle him into an accident.

"What?!" an impatient voice called from down the Ancient hallway and around the corner,

When Sheppard rounded the corner he saw that he was right not to startle McKay. The physicist was layed out on a make shift hammock and dangling from the ceiling of a very, very tall room. "Is that safe?!"

"Of course it's safe!" McKay snapped. "Would I be doing it if it wasn't? And don't touch anything!"

Sheppard pulled his hand away from the open wall panel that had caught his attention, "I wasn't…"

McKay pulled out a remote control and the hammock began to lower itself, "It's not past time for my afternoon radio check-in and I told you before I don't want any help, so why are you here?"

Sheppard sneakily switched on his radio and turned the microphone up to high, waiting for McKay to finishing walking over to face him. But McKay walked straight past him to the open panel and hooked in his lap top. "Uh, McKay?"

"Make it fast," the scientist snipped. "I'm busy."

Oh great. Sheppard covered his eyes with hand. That was going to go over real well with the listening room. "Some of the guys, and by guys I mean the military…because the military women are guys too. You know what? Let's pretend I didn't say that." Maybe the radio wasn't such a good idea. "McKay, this would be a lot easier if you'd turn around and look at me."

McKay stopped what he was doing with a belaboured sigh and turned to face Sheppard.

"Good," Sheppard grinned magnanimously, "As I was saying, some of the military, and by some I mean all, are feeling like maybe you should make an appearance at the memorial service this year. You know, what with Griffin and all."

"No." McKay answered succinctly and turned back to the panel.

This wasn't working. But then, Sheppard usually had to get McKay angry before he'd actually spill. "What they're actually saying is just because you aren't military it doesn't mean you can just ignore their sacrifices."

That got McKay's attention. Just not quite the way Sheppard had intended. The hurt look, that Rodney now wore, made Sheppard wince. Maybe he'd gone too far. That Rodney's tone sounded more hurt than angry made it worse, "I thought you understood."

"I do!" Sheppard answered perhaps too quickly, but when McKay was hurt those eyes of his were a weapon. "I do understand. But as your friend I think that sometimes it's important to share your… feelings… with others. The rest of Atlantis is out there doing that now, sharing their memories. You spend every year down here alone. Dr Weir and some others were hoping that you might come and …. Share… a poem."

"Oh? A poem. How nice." McKay bit out sarcastically, "Let me guess? Could it be, 'In Flanders Fields?'"

Great. Sheppard groaned as his brilliant plan culminated in half the base listening to McKay mock the sacred poem. Maybe he could steer McKay in another direction. He opened his mouth to do as much.

But McKay was in full rant mode now and he wasn't going to be interrupted. Sheppard just covered his eyes again as McKay barrelled onwards. This might just be his worst plan ever. "You know my favourite part of that poem people recite once a year after year after year, Sheppard?

'Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die,

We shall not sleep.'

That poem isn't about sitting around in a room looking at photo-albums and drinking toasts. It's about action."

Sheppard uncovered his eyes and looked at McKay. Now they were getting somewhere. The other mans eyes were moist now. "I see."

"Do you?" McKay challenged angrily. "I came out here for scientific exploration, not to fight a war. We all did. And I'm sure even you military types weren't expecting to have to defend us from anything remotely like the Wraith."

Sheppard nodded, "It was a surprise."

Rodney barrelled onwards as though Sheppard had said nothing, "Suddenly, everything we do here, everything we accomplish, wasn't…no, isn't just about scientific progress or getting that Nobel Prize. It's about survival. It's about defeating the Wraith. Saving this galaxy and protecting the Milky Way. Collins, Lindstrom, Brendan, Dumas, Peter, Griffin…That's what they all died for. Don't you understand? Every wraith we kill, every discovery we make, every life we save is a continuation of their work!"

"Ya Rodney," Sheppard coughed to clear the lump in his throat. "I understand. So! What are you working on?"

Rodney threw his arms up in exasperation and threw Sheppard a scowl that screamed, 'why are you still here?' "If you MUST know, this entire room is the temperature regulation chamber for the hyper-drive. It keeps the entire city from being incinerated, and us with it, by the amount of power it takes to move something this size at hyper speed. Some day we are going to have all the energy we need to run this city properly. When we do, she's going to be ready to fly."

"Why?" Sheppard pressed. This wasn't just another repair. This particular project had meaning for McKay and Sheppard really wanted to know why this time.

Rodney sighed. "Brendan really wanted to see this city fly. You should have seen his face when we found the Star-Drive. We couldn't reach it at the time, because of all the damage. But we got into the control systems for it. He said that I'd do it. Grodin too. Even Griffin. 'If anyone could make this city fly it's you McKay.' It was like every one of them thought I was some kind of damned miracle worker. So that's what I'm doing. Now! I have eleven hours left before I have to shift my priorities to the more plausible so get out of my way and stop distracting me."

"Sure Rodney. I'll see you tomorrow." Sheppard turned off the radio on his hip and left quietly. McKay had already turned back to his work.

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The entire jumper bay was silent. They had been so quick to judge McKay. Every officer was looking at the floor, and feeling pretty stupid. But none felt as stupid as Lorne did just then. He'd forgotten the scientists. McKay wasn't the one guilty of forgetting. They all were.

Lorne cleared his throat and took a deep breath, "Dr. Weir?" Elizabeth looked at him, her cheeks flushed. "I'm going to need a photo of every scientist that's passed away on this expedition."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, "I'll go get them now."

Cadman stepped up in Dr. Weir's place and addressed Lorne, "Sir. I know where there are some more crates."

"Thanks, Leuitenant," Lorne gratefully nodded his authorization, and Cadman wasted no time in collecting and assembling the extra tables.

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Midnight, Twelve-O-Clock sharp, McKay arrived back at the main city. If any scientists managed to royally both something up, McKay would be available to call. The halls were relatively quiet. Most were probably in bed.

Bed sounded really good right now. But there was someplace else McKay needed to be first.

Rodney made his way to the secondary jumper bay. He went every year long after the ceremonies and the crowds and before everything was cleaned away. The flames would be out, but the pictures would still be there. McKay would take the time to look at every one before retiring for the evening.

The Jumper Bay doors slid open, and candle light spilled out. To his surprise there were still a few people standing about the room, talking quietly or contemplating the people in the pictures. A few of the remaining people were military, but to McKay's confusion most were scientists.

They began to turn and watch him, and with a start McKay realized he was still standing in the doorway like an idiot. Well fine, so there were people here this year. That wasn't going to stop him.

He made his way towards the central display, honouring this years dead, first. To his surprise, Collins was there.

He quickly turned to the other make-shift tables and scanned them. There was Grodin, Abram's, Gaul… all of them.

It was easier than he thought it would be to forget that there were others here, as he went to each of the photo's and spoke quietly with them, "Hey Griffin. I want you to know that I still think what you did was stupid…but thanks. So, here's what I did today…"

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The End.


	2. Story Explanation

A short explanation of In Flanders Fields and the Significance of Poppies;

The red poppy is significant as a war flower because, in Europe, it flourishes in fields that have been torn by war.

Armistice Day, Veterans Day, and Remembrance Day are simply different names. The heart and purpose of the Day's are the same in all three allied countries, U.S, Canada, and the U.K.

In Flanders Fields is a Poem written in May of 1915, by a Canadian named John McCrae. He was a physician and a Lieutenant Colonel. It is the most famous poem of World War I, and has come to represent the sacrifice of soldiers in both World War I and II. The entire poem follows;

In Flanders fields the poppies blow  
Between the crosses, row on row,  
That mark our place; and in the sky  
The larks, still bravely singing, fly  
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago  
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,  
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie  
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:  
To you from failing hands we throw  
The torch; be yours to hold it high.  
If ye break faith with us who die  
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow  
In Flanders fields.


End file.
